Hope is the thing with feathers
by Myannah
Summary: A new family moves into the Murder House. One member of the family can see right into the ghostly members of the house.
1. Chapter 1

American Horror story – Hope is the thing with feathers.

Chapter 1.

1993

Tate Langdon poked his head into the library. The usual crowd hung out in their usual places. He slipped in and silently crossed over to the back. At the reference books, rarely used by any other students, he dropped his bag and sat down on the floor. He reached to his previous book and continued on reading. At that moment the world could explode, and he wouldn't even know. He was in his happy place.

2011

Tate strolled around the house. He was avoiding everyone. After he and Violet had gotten close enough to a normal conversation, Hayden came along and screwed the whole thing up. Now he was mad at Hayden, Violet was mad at him again, and he was just waiting for time to go by. He walked up to the attic to play with Beau and ignored the Real Estate agent Marcy, preparing the house for another showing.

It was a dry day, as usual. Hardly anyone wanted the house. At noon, a family came to look at the house. It was Jennifer and Peter Arts and their teen son and daughter, Sam and Rory.

Vivian, Violet, Moira and Ben stood on the top of the stairs, watching the possible buyers as they wondered around the house. Hayden watched them from the basement door. Rory walked into the kitchen, and Moira followed her. Violet raised an eyebrow and followed Sam upstairs. Vivian followed Jennifer and Marcy and Ben stayed at Peter's heals.

Rory stared at the pasta arm and rolled her eyes. She took a cookie from the agent's display and took a bite. She looked up and looked straight at Moira. Moira gasped only to realize that Jennifer, Marcy and Vivian walked in behind her.

"You like it honey?" Jennifer asked.

"It's okay." Rory scanned the room and swiftly laid eyes on Vivian. "It has a lot of history."

"Are all the stories of the house true?" Jennifer asked.

"What stories are you referring to?" Marcy composed her panic.

"Well, we researched the house history, and there's a lot of information that could be found in archives and on the internet." Rory said.

Marcy sighed. She didn't want to just give the house away. But it seemed like it was becoming her only option.

"Well, I believe that some are true. But I don't believe the house is haunted." Marcy tried.

"I do." Rory said.

"Me too." Sam walked in with Violet at his side. Rory glanced at Violet and then back at Sam. "Where's dad?"

"Right behind you." Peter and Ben came in. Rory looked around at all the faces, including those of the spirits. Violet frowned, wondering whether Rory was perhaps a medium. "This house is even better than all the stories. I want it."

"You want to live in a haunted house?" Marcy asked surprised.

"We're not afraid of anything." Sam stated and Hayden laughed from the front hall.

Rory looked up towards Hayden and laid eyes on Tate as he descended the stairs. Tate threw Hayden a glance as he walked past her and froze midway. He looked up into the kitchen and saw Rory staring at him. He frowned.

"I want it." Rory said and looked at her dad. "We should take it."

"Let's get the papers then." Marcy said most excitedly.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

1993

Tate walked down the street towards his house. He stopped in front of the neighbor's house. Addy, his sister sat on the lawn admiring the house as always. Tate walked over to her and sat down.

"It's looking pretty again." Addy said.

"Yeah. You can't see that a cheating man's wife burnt herself and their children in there." Tate replied.

"You can if you're inside." Addy smiled slyly.

"I bet you're right" Tate said and stood, heading towards their house next door.

Tate walked into their house and up the stairs to Beau's room. He cringed when he heard the chains rattle on the wood floor. He opened Beau's door and caught the ball just before it rolled out the door.

"Hey Beau." Tate sat down and rolled the ball back.

"Play." Beau said excitedly as he caught the ball and rolled it again. Tate played for half an hour, as was his habit every day. And like every day, when he stood to leave, Beau stood too and was held back by the chains.

"Tay." Beau complained just like every day and Tate fought against tears.

Tate paused outside Beau's room until he settled down. He heard glasses clink together and laughter coming from down stairs. He walked into the kitchen, finding Constance and Larry drinking champagne.

"What's going on?" Tate asked.

"We're celebrating. Come here, Tate." Constance said and Tate knew that the glass she had in her hand, hadn't been her first. He walked closer slowly and stood across the table from her.

"God, you're not getting married, are you?" Tate asked bluntly.

"Not quite yet, no." Larry poured another glass. "I asked your mom to move in with me, and…"

Tate cut him off. "Let me guess. She said yes?"

"She did!" Larry exclaimed and raised his glass. Tate flicked his hand, and slapped the glass out of Larry's hand, before racing out the back door.

He started running as far and fast as he could. He ran until he didn't even know where he was. He ended up in a park. The sun was setting behind a bunch of trees and a few children were playing on the faraway jungle gym. Tate walked breathless along the trees and stopped at a picnic table to catch his breath.

"Tate?" a soft voice called out. Tate ignored it.

"Tate." The voice said again from right behind him. He turned around and was surprised at the face he saw. He looked her over. He recognized her long black hair, her crystal blue eyes and her sickly pale skin.

"Are you okay?" she asked and he finally recognized her voice.

"How do you know me?" he asked and walked past her.

"I'm Hope Murphy. I sit behind you in Home room." She followed him.

"I know who you are; I just didn't think you'd know me."

"I noticed you." She said nonchalantly. Tate stopped at a tree and sat down on the grass, leaning against the trunk. Hope sighed and sat down next to him.

"What happened to you?" Hope asked and reached out and touched his hands. They were slightly bloody from tar scrapes. He gently pulled his hands away and started wiping them off on his shirt when she grabbed his wrists and handed him a few tissues.

"I fell."

"While you were running away from the devil?" she teased.

"Something like that."

She smiled and Tate was mesmerized.

"I've never seen you smile before." He said

"You've never even looked at me before."

"I've noticed you." Tate echoed her words and smiled with her.

Hope grabbed a few more tissues and wiped the dirt off his face.

"Why do you have so many tissues?" Tate asked when he saw more than any one person needed in her bag.

"I get nose bleeds." She said simply. "Do you want to go wash up at my house? It's right over there." She pointed at her house and Tate saw where he was. He ran through several neighborhoods, beyond his school, and familiar places. He ran all the way to the beach. Hope's house was one of the few with their own beach backyard.

"Yeah, okay."

Tate stood and held his hand out to Hope.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

2011

After the formalities were done with, Peter started arranging the move immediately. A couple days later, a truck arrived with furniture and boxes. While the crew was unloading things and arranging the house, Hayden watched from the upstairs window.

Rory and Sam arrived in a car they shared and wondered around the house, picking out their rooms.

"I want this one." Rory said when she picked both Tate and Violet's room.

"Really?" Sam was genuinely confused. You always take the attic."

"Yeah." Rory pulled a chalk out of her jean pocket and wrote her name on the door. "But that's occupied."

Violet watched as Rory bent down and drew a line on the wooden floor, from corner to corner of her door. Rory handed Sam the chalk and they walked on. Violet followed.

"Well, all that's left is the guest room, study and the music room." Sam said thoughtfully.

"Yeah, pick that one." Rory said sarcastically.

"You're acting funny today." Sam retorted. They arrived at the guest room and Sam wrote his name on the door with the chalk and then drew line, identical to the one in Rory's room, on the floor.

In the master bedroom, Hayden watched as the movers configured around with Jenifer's instructions. Ben walked in and watched Hayden watch them. He wondered if he had to warn her against doing anything rash.

Downstairs, Moira knocked on the backdoor and walked in without invitation. Peter was busy unpacking when he saw 'real' Moira stand in the doorway.

"My name is Moira O'Hara. I was the housekeeper for several of the previous home owners." Moira said.

"Oh, that's wonderful! It's great that you came around." Peter sidestepped to the hallway and called Jennifer.

"I'm here to offer my services to you." Moira said with a smile. Jennifer walked in and was delighted to see Moira.

"Where's Rory?" Jennifer whispered slyly to Peter. He shrugged and walked out the kitchen.

"Hi. I'm Jennifer Arts. That is my husband Peter." Jennifer said after an awkward pause and shook Moira's hand. "It's wonderful that you came around, we really need someone to help around the house."

"I'm glad I came too." Moira whispered.

"When can you start?" Jennifer asked.

"Tomorrow?" Moira frowned.

"That would work just fine. We have some post moving cleaning, don't we?"

"Yes, that's true." Moira thought for a second. "May I ask; what do you and your husband do for a living?"

"Oh, Sure. Yes. We're both teachers. I'm a music teacher for people of all ages and levels. And Peter teaches home school for special kids. Also all ages."

"Special kids?"

"Usually smarter kids like prodigies. Or celebrity's kids. Sometimes troubled kids too."

"We have a few of those in the neighborhood." Moira smiled, thinking about Tate. "Do you have kids of your own?"

"Twin boy and girl. Sam and Rory. They're teenagers; both passed through Peter's home school and are active college students. We adopted them. We can't have any kids of our own."

"That's sad. I'm sorry Mrs. Arts." Moira wasn't really sad for them. She knew that it was better and safer for them anyway.

"What can you tell me about the neighborhood?" Jennifer motioned for Moira to sit down and started making a pot of tea.

"You may want to avoid your next door neighbor. She's a heartless bitch. Pardon my crassness."

Rory waltzed into the room.

"Dad said you wanted me?" Rory said to Jenifer without looking at Moira. Jennifer looked at Moira and Rory followed her gaze.

"Rory, this is our housekeeper Moira O'Hara." Jennifer stated. Rory looked at Moira for a long moment.

"Hi." Rory chirped. She then turned her attention back to Jennifer. "You may want this."

Rory handed the chalk over to Jennifer.

"This complicates things." Jennifer said as she rolled her eyes towards Moira.

"That's okay. I'll clean my own room." Jennifer nodded and Rory left.

"Sam too?" Jennifer called out towards Rory.

"Yes," she yelled back. Moira stared, awaiting an explanation. Jennifer rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Sam and Rory are… well, strange teenagers. Relatively normal, I guess. They prefer cleaning their own rooms. They don't want anyone in their rooms, except each other at times. So you can skip their rooms. The doors will probably be locked anyway."

"You allow them to lock their doors?" Moira wondered what they wanted privacy for.

"They're not trouble kids, so we trust them."

Moira nodded but though deeply.

Upstairs, Rory returned to her room as workers moved her furniture in. She showed them where to put her stuff and sat in the windowsill as they put everything in place. Sam walked in and Violet followed.

To her shock, Violet could not walk into the room. She stepped forward but ended up a step back. She lifted her hand into the room, but her arm slacked to her side. She frowned and tried one more time, only to end up with her back against the hallway wall.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

1993

Tate and Hope walked side by side towards her house, unaware of the fact that they were still holding hands. Before they reached the door, it opened and they were met by a butler. Hope ignored him and walked past the stairs and showed Tate the bathroom. That was the first time since the park that their hands separated. Tate felt strange as Hope told him where to find her when he's done and closed the door behind her.

After he cleaned up, he wondered around the big house, in the direction that she had given him and ended up in the kitchen. Hope sat at the high chair at the island while a man was busy packing away groceries.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" Hope asked as she handed him a Dr. Pepper. Tate thought for a moment, weighing the thought of eating dinner with strangers, against eating dinner with Constance and Larry.

"It's just going to be you and me." She said and a shock went through him as if she'd read his thoughts. "Just so you know." She added lightly. "And Embry here," she pointed at the man, "he'll make whatever we want."

"Where are your parents?" Tate asked, diverting the question, while he kept thinking.

"Off curing cancer." She answered bitterly. "Or raising money to do so."

"Oh." Tate didn't know what to say about that.

After a long silence, Tate made his choice.

"Sure. I'd like to stay for dinner."

Long after dinner, Tate and Hope were still sitting at the dining table, just talking. They had so much in common that it was hard to believe that they've never spoken. They talked into the morning hours and ended up in the house library, talking about-, and reading their favorite quotes. They had coffee too, which Tate hadn't been allowed to drink in his house and they stayed up all night. They fell asleep on the couches for brief moments and at some point, Hope woke him up to take him upstairs.

"What time is it?" Tate wondered.

"Time for the sun to come up." Hope said and they snuck into Hope's parent's empty bedroom. She unlocked the balcony door and they shared a swing chair, staring out at the dark sea. After a few minutes, the sun started rising in the distance and they watched the ocean and sky change color.

After Embry made them Smores pancakes for breakfast, Tate set out to go home.

"Are you ever going to tell me what chased you yesterday?" She asked as she walked with him down the street.

"Family drama." He stated.

'Oh. I know all about family drama." Hope left it at that. "If you want to, you're welcome to come by any time you want. For as long as you want." She added after a short silence. "Just so you know."

"The next time I run away, I'll head in this direction." Tate said and walked away with a smile. "That might be sooner than you think."

At home, Tate avoided his mom and Larry as he snuck back into his room to sleep. When he woke in the afternoon, he took a shower, before he climbed out his window and ran to Hope's house. The door opened again before he reached it, and it made him wonder whether the butler was watching the streets.

Tate spent the rest of the afternoon with Hope. They walked on the beach and built puzzles in the arts and crafts room. After dinner with just the two of them again, Tate sat down in the lounge as Hope transformed the house's general silence into music from heaven. She played the piano like she was born to do it. She lived herself into every song and even cried.

They talked for hours again, and wandered into the kitchen for early morning snacks. They walked out back and sat on the beach, watching the colors change. Having been up all night, Tate left a little earlier.

He walked into the house, not bothering to be quiet about it so early in the morning. He fell onto his bed and slept until noon. When he woke up, he found his door locked. He tried his window, but found it latched shut. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get out. He banged on his door and begged his mom to open up, but she never came to his door, or ever answered him. He got so angry he nearly broke out the window, but had been so exhausted by his attempt to open the door, that he had no strength. He fell asleep when the light faded from the sky.

The next morning his door was unlocked. He took a shower and hurried to school without breakfast or even speaking to his mom. He didn't even know where to start looking for Hope. In all there long talks, they never mentioned where they hung out. After running through the whole school, he settled for waiting in homeroom.

The bell rang and students filled the class room. Hope didn't show up. Tate raked his brain for any piece of information she might have given about her absence. He also knew that they had no classes together because she was in a higher level class, aside from homeroom.

After school, Tate walked to Hope's house. But the butler didn't open the door. He didn't even answer it when Tate rang the bell a thousand times. The next day at school, she wasn't there either. He went to her house again, but no answer. Tate searched the park and the trees where they met, but she wasn't there. Instead he found one of the books that he recommended to her laying open face down, behind a tree. He picked it up and felt a jolt go through him when he saw a dried dirty smear of blood covering the page.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

2011

In the following week, the new members of the house settle in. Sam and Rory spent their days at LAU registering and figuring out classes, while Jennifer tuned and cleaned every instrument she owned. After unpacking all his books and manuals in the study, Peter set up a long table, facing a black board.

Moira helped unpack the rest of the house and cleaned up along the way. She followed the instructions to leave the kids' room alone. The spirits moved around the house freely as always, hiding themselves from the current owners. Violet was mystified by the fact that she couldn't walk into Sam's room, but eventually got distracted and walked away.

Constance showed up one morning, having been occupied with personal matters for the past few days. At least she had the decency to knock on the door before she just walked in.

"Oh hi." Jennifer said when she walked into the kitchen and saw Constance lurking around.

"Hi there. Excuse my manners but no one seemed to have heard me knock." Constance said as she extended her hand to Jennifer. "I'm Constance. From next door."

"Hi Constance. I'm Jennifer. My husband is Peter. He's somewhere in the house but you'll see him around."

"It's nice to meet you Jennifer. I just dropped by to welcome you to the neighborhood." Constance put a pie on the island and sat down.

"Oh, Thank you. That's so nice of you." Jennifer eyed the pie and then checked the clock. "I'm sorry Constance I'm going have to ask you to leave. We have school starting here in a few minutes."

"Here?" Constance stood, a little offended at first but lightened at the rest.

"Yes, my husband is a home school teacher for several kids in the neighborhood."

"Oh that's fantastic. I've heard of this. Uneducated adults, dumb and smart children alike… troubled teenagers…" Constance headed to the door and spun back on her heel. "Does he happen to have a spot open for one more?"

Ben watched as a handful of kids file into the house and wait for instruction from the teacher. Peter walked over to Ben and shook his hand.

"Good morning, Ben. It's great that you could start on such short notice." Peter handed Ben instruction booklets and he handed them out to the parents and guardians. Everyone filed into the dining room and Peter gave a whole speech about how the school works. From eight am to twelve pm every day. And then a second wave of kids from one pm to five. No homework over weekends, test on Fridays. Each student will be treated as if they are the only one in class. Everyone gets one on one treatment. Ben is there to help with admin and paper work.

With everyone in the dining room, Constance snuck into the basement where she called Tate.

"What now?" Tate said irritated.

Constance told him about the home school. It took lots of convincing and bribing, but Tate agreed to go. At noon, the second wave of students gathered in the front hall. Tate made his way there and waited with Constance nearby. Violate walked down the stairs and headed to the door.

"What are you doing here?" She asked Tate.

"School. You?" Tate kept their talks short, not wanting to risk getting her mad again.

"I just finished." Violet stated.

"I bet you're happy we're not going to be in the same class." Tate said painfully.

"Yeah actually I am." Violet looked at him challengingly. When he said nothing, she walked out.

Tate watched the four other students he would be in class with. He followed when everyone assembled in the dining room, except he didn't sit down. He leaned against the doorframe. He ignored Peter's speech, just standing silently watching. The front door opened and he ignored it as always. Footsteps behind him as Rory went to the music room. A violin played audibly when the music room's door opened and stopped. There was talking. A voice he slightly recognized but ignored it too.

It's not until the piano started playing that Tate really paid attention to music room. He slipped out the dining room and down the hallway. The beautiful piano music stopped and there was more talking before footsteps neared the door.

"Just so you know." The speaker said before walking into the hallway.

Tate jumped into a doorway and hid when Rory walked out the music room. Her long black hair hung loosely over her white shirt that held no contrast to her translucently white skin. She wasn't wearing makeup like most 16 year old girls but she looked radiant. When she lifted her bright blue eyes from the floor as she walked, Tate slammed himself into the wall in shock. Rory smiled at nothing in particular; a thought or something someone has said earlier. She walked past Tate's hiding place and headed upstairs.

Tate followed her. She reached the top of the stairs and walked into the bathroom. She splashed her face with water and patted it dry. When she looked into the mirror, she saw Tate staring at her. She turned to face him.

"Hope?" Tate whispered confused.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6.

1993

Tate stared at the blood smear and slumped to the ground. He freaked out for a moment before he remembered that Hope had mentioned nose bleeds and carried a ton of tissues. He took the book and walked home slowly. He still had no idea why she would miss school over a nosebleed.

At home, he saw several workers, moving select pieces of furniture across the yard to the house next door, and the rest into a truck for storing. Tate didn't even bother going to the old house, instead he just walked into the new one. Abby was singing from the kitchen. Excessively excited about moving into the house again.

Tate ignored everyone and walked up the stairs to the room he used to have. Already he could hear Beau's chains rattling on the attic floor. He had half a mind to play with Beau as he did every day, but resigned to locking himself in his room.

The next morning, Constance had to drag him out of bed. He didn't know why he felt so lifeless. He ate dry toast and slumped to school. He considered ditching, but ended up in a crowd that dragged him all the way to the hallway outside homeroom. He wasn't early, but he dropped his bag by his feet and slid down against the wall to sit on the floor.

He sat with his face in his hands and his elbows on his knees, head leaning against the wall. Footsteps passed him, into classes but he ignored them. He heard something drop near him and then an actual person dropped to the floor. Cold fingers pried his hands away from his face. He took his hands away and to his surprise, Hope was hunched in front of him.

Tate smiled instantly and threw his arms around her, dragging her all the way to the floor. She mumbled things into his neck and laughed with him.

"Hey! Do you want to ditch?" Tate asked when he finally let her get up.

"I can't miss another day of school." Hope said and corrected the hair he had messed up. "Not that I want to be here."

"Where would you rather be?" Tate asked curiously.

"France." She answered quickly.

"You want to go there?" Tate stood and held his hand out to her.

Hope smiled and took his hand. He pulled her up the hall and down some stairs, towards a completely different building. He stopped walking and put his hands over her eyes as he walked her down another hall, and into an empty classroom.

Hope opened her eyes in the French class. The flag hung high and mighty against an entire wall; there were pictures of all things from France against another wall, with cards naming all the things. Tate grabbed a beret off a coat/hat stand and put it on.

"Bonjour!" Tate said as he leaned in closer and kissed her on both cheeks. He frowned at the coldness of her skin.

"Bonjour." She repeated. And sat down on a table facing all the French pictures. Tate sat on the next table and they stared at the wall for several seconds.

"Comment allez-vous?" Hope asked how he was.

"Très bien, merci." Tate said he was good thanks. After a long silence, Tate asked in fluent French, "Where were you?"

Hope sighed. "With my parents," she answered also in French.

"You weren't at home." Tate accused.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"I missed you, Hope." Tate reached out and held her hand.

They spent the entire first period in the classroom. Eventually Tate ran out of French thing to say and Hope spoke to fast for him at times, that they just switched to English again. When the French teacher caught them in the class, he chased them off and gave them a warning. They decided to carry on the rest of their class schedules as normal and meet up for lunch. Tate waited at the side of the line for her and when Hope finally reached him, they took the same lunches and grabbed a table in the far corner of the cafeteria.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Tate asked halfway through lunch. He had finished his lunch a long time ago and she hadn't touched her food.

"I don't feel hungry." She whispered.

They met at the office corner after school. Tate took her hand and walked her home. They talked the whole way about their classes and plans for the rest of the week. When they reached the corner of the street, about 3 houses away from her house, Hope stopped walking.

"My parents can't see you." She said with a strange morbidity.

"Of course not," Tate joked. "I'm a disaster. I should tell you."

"Me too." Hope had a strange look in her eye that Tate couldn't place, so he left it at that.

Tate tilted her head up. Her eyes sparkled as he pulled her closer and kissed her for the first time. She kissed him back, but whimpered softly. Tate frowned and pulled away to see her crying.

"What's wrong?" Tate asked quickly. "Did I do…?"

"No. No… no." Hope whispered and pulled him closer for another kiss.

Tate grabbed her arms and held her at a distance. He let go and held her face to wipe away the constant stream of tears.

"It's not you it's me." She mumbled quickly as she stepped away from him. She avoided his eyes as she continued talking. "I'm dying."

Tate was shocked. Hope looked at his face quickly and then walked on towards her house.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Tate stared at Rory's porcelain face. Her long black hair hung in waves down her back. Her blue eyes sparkled with an expression he couldn't place. Rory blushed and her cheeks burned red against the white. She really looked like a doll in her white shirt and skirt.

Tate shook his head and backed out of the bathroom.

"I'm…" Tate started mumbling insanely. "You can't… No, this isn't… I'm sorry." Tate backed right into the wall and then turned and left quickly. Tate walked past Sam as he ascended the stairs. Tate kept mumbling as he raced out of view. Rory followed Tate until she nearly crashed into Sam.

"What's up?" Sam asked as Rory came to her senses.

"He called me Hope." Rory uttered.

Sam's eyebrows lifted and then mashed together over his blue eyes.

"What does that mean?" Sam didn't really understand.

"I don't know." Rory sighed and walked away.

Rory walked down the stairs and out the back door. Several parents were standing on the porch, talking to one another. Tate was strolling up and down the porch, mumbling and swearing. No one took notice of him.

A parent walked into Rory and apologized.

"Shouldn't you be in class?" the parent asked her.

"This is my house." Rory said as she stared at Tate - who was in such a state he didn't see her staring at him.

"I'm sorry, you had a vacant expression on your face like my daughter has when she zones out." The parent said bluntly. "What are you staring at?" she asked, looking in Tate's direction but not seeing him.

"Things that normal people don't see." Rory said harshly. The parent raised her eyebrows and excused herself. Most of the parents had left and hurried off back to work. Tate didn't even notice this.

"Tate?" Rory called. Tate stopped his mumbling at the sound of her voice. He turned around and looked at her. He jerked when she looked straight at him. He looked behind him quickly to see if she was perhaps looking at something else but was shocked that he was alone on the porch with her.

"Can you see me?" Tate asked, not thinking about the fact that she knew his name.

Rory nodded.

"But…" Tate frowned.

"I see everything." Rory said pointedly. Tate huffed and nearly started crying.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

1993

Tate spent all afternoon and night, trying to figure out what to do. Hope was dying. Everyone is dying but the way she said it, it sounded like it was happening fast. He hardly slept and then showered quickly before he ran out the house. He wondered in the still dark streets, heading in Hope's direction as he walked. By the time the sun started coming up; he reached the beach behind Hopes house. Tate sat on the sand and watched the colors change. He heard life pick up on the streets as he stared out at the water, ignoring the cold.

He closed his eyes and listened to the waves crash.

"Tate?" a gruff male voice spoke. Tate opened his eyes and saw the butler standing in front of him.

"Yeah?" Tate stood and wiped his face when he realized that he'd been crying.

"Hope is inside, getting ready for school. Her parents just left. Embry made breakfast. Why don't you come in?" The butler said and walked back to the house. Tate waited a few seconds before he followed.

The door to the back deck and pool area was left open. Tate slipped in and felt the warmth envelop him. He closed the door and followed the wonderful smells of bacon and eggs to the kitchen. Embry was busy buttering toast when Tate walked in.

"Good morning Tate. How do you like your eggs?" Embry said cheerfully. When he noticed Tate's foul mood, he dropped the act. "She told you?"

Embry motioned for Tate to sit at the island, and he did. Embry sighed deeply and dropped the toast.

"What did she tell you?" Embry asked.

"That she was dying." Tate answered, a little intimidated by the large man still carrying the butter knife.

"Just that?"

"Yeah. Then she left."

"Hope has leukemia. She's had it for most of her life. She was in remission for a long time. And this weekend it all came back."

"Just like that?" Tate felt stupid.

"No. Do you know anything, kid? About leukemia?"

Tate shook his head. He tried to think of the things he's heard of or read about but all he could come up with was a grave.

"It's going to kill her. She is an only child and has a special blood type, which makes finding a bone marrow donor impossible. She's had treatments and it's worked in the past, but doctors say it may not work again."

"So she is going to die." Tate stated morbidly. He couldn't help but picture the gravestone with her name on it.

"She has a couple months. Maybe years if she takes treatment again."

It was silent for a while. Embry returned to the toast and placed it all in a heated oven to stay warm.

"I don't want her to die." Tate whispered.

"It's going to happen, kid. We all have to face that fact. It sucks, I know. I've practically raised that girl, how do you think I feel? We just have to make the best of the time we have."

"I don't want her to die." Tate repeated.

"I know… Look, she's upstairs, go see her. Bring her down for breakfast." Embry wiped his hands off on his apron and walked out.

Tate stared at his hands for a long time before he got up and went to Hope's room. He knocked and after what seemed forever without an answer, he walked in.

"Hope?" He called. Her room was empty but her bathroom door was shut.

"Wait." Hope said from behind the door. After a second she walked out, wearing a bathrobe. "Hi."

"Are you okay?" Tate asked.

Hope nodded. She walked closer and wrapped her arms around his neck. Tate looked at her pale skin and wiped her dark wet hair out of her face and kissed her.

"I'm glad you came in." Hope said. "Wasn't it cold out there on the beach?"

"You saw me?" Tate asked.

"I see everything."

Tate laughed and kissed her again.

When Tate pulled away, Hope held on tighter and deepened the kiss. She turns him around and locks the door with her outstretched hand. Tate's eyebrows shot up at the sound of the lock, and broke the kiss.

"Hope…" Tate whispered as he stepped away.

"I love you." Hope whispered.

They stared at each other.

"I love you too." Tate said and stepped closer again to hold her face in his hands and kissed her.

Hope looked down and untied her robe.

"You'll have to be gentle. I bruise easily." Hope said as she slipped the robe off her shoulders. Tate's eyes widened at the bruises she already had on her body. He reached out and lightly touched her discolored skin. He matched his hand to a full hand sized bruise on her side.

"That was me…" Tate whimpered. Hope smiled.

"It's okay, Tate. I don't feel it." She stepped closer and kissed him.

"How is it okay?" Tate pulled away just to speak, but she snuck kisses in between the talking. "I hurt you."

"Most of the pain and temperature receptors in my skin are dead, so I don't feel it. Light touches I feel, that's a different layer of skin altogether." Hope said. "I think."

Tate pulled her closer and kissed her deeply. She felt his hesitation in every touch but eagerly responded.

Then Tate stopped. He looked at her face and felt a tear run down his cheek. Hope was crying too. Tate grabbed her robe and helped her back into it.

"I love you." He said as he held his brow against hers. They remained like that for several minutes as they cried together.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Rory looked away uncomfortably. She stared around the yard and into the window. She listened intently for other ghosts while she waited for Tate to calm down.

Tate stared at her. Tried to make sense of it all. And then he saw in Rory what he saw before. Dark hair, blue eyes and pale skin.

"Hope." He stepped closer and closed the gap between them. Rory stepped away before he could kiss her.

"Whoa." She exclaimed.

"How… What… I…" Tate didn't even know what he wanted to say to her.

Rory held him at arm's length. "Meet me in the attic."

"Okay."Tate said. Rory turned and left.

Tate realized that she didn't say a time. But decided to go up there and wait for her. He could spend some time with Beau while he waited.

Rory walked into the house and up the stairs to Sam's room.

"What's going on?" Sam asked.

Rory walked in and searched for something.

"We're going to talk." Rory said. She found what she was looking for and tucked the chalk into her pocket.

"You can't tell him." Sam warned before Rory was out.

"I don't have to." Rory said, and walked away.

Tate stepped into the attic, "Beau?" He called. No response. Tate frowned. Beau had never left the attic. Maybe he was hiding. The attic door slammed shut behind him and Rory hunched over them as she drew a rough circle around it.

"What are you doing?" Tate asked.

"It's so we can be alone." Rory tucked the chalk away and stood in front of Tate.

"How can you be here?" Tate asked. "You died."

"I did." Rory thought for a second. "It's complicated."

"I have time. You can take forever to tell me."

Tate stepped closer and put his arms around her waist. Rory didn't pull away this time.

"Hope." Tate whispered. Rory smiled and leaned closer and kissed him.

"Everyone calls me Rory now." Hope said.

"Why?" Tate kissed her again.

"I have to change my name every now and then. Right now it's actually Lorelei Arts. Rory for short. Just on paper."

"How are you doing this?" Tate touched her face, ran his fingers through her hair, smelled her skin and kissed her. It was really her.

"It's a long story, Tate" Rory kissed him again.

"I told you, I have time."

"You really want to spend it talking?" Rory looked into his eyes. She cocked an eyebrow and smiled.

Tate smiled. "Not really, no," he said and kissed her again. She tugged at him and pulled him to the floor.

"Wait." Tae broke the kiss and looked around him. "Beau is here… somewhere."

"No he's not." Rory said between kissing him.

"Where did he go? He's never left the attic." Tate sat upright and stared around the room.

"He's not here anymore." Rory said and sat next to him.

Tate heard something in Rory's tone. He stopped looking for Beau and stared at Rory. She knew something that she wasn't telling him.

"Where is he?" Tate asked.

Rory looked down. "Not here."

Tate jumped up and grabbed her shoulders. He fell, pushing her to the floor again. He held her to the wood floor and repeated.

"Where?"

"I can't tell you, Tate" Rory whispered. She lifted her hands and tried to touch him, but he held her down stiffly.

"So you know?" Tate asked and slammed her whole body against the floor. Rory moaned at the pain and struggled to get a hold on her head.

"Why are you so angry?" Rory whimpered.

Tate stared silently at her for a few moments as he took a few deep breaths.

"I don't know." Tate let her go and sat up. "This is who I've become. I'm a disaster, remember?"

Rory swallowed hard and slowly sat up. She felt the back of her head and flinched.

"I know." Rory whispered and gently put an arm around his shoulders.

She rested her head on his shoulders and sighed.

"Is he okay?" Tate asked.

"Yes. He's fine." Rory answered. "He's in a better place now."

Tate frowned. He wasn't sure what she meant. He vaguely remembered a conversation they once had. He sighed and kissed the top of Rory's head.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

1993

Tate returned home after school that day. He and Hope eventually got out of her room, ate breakfast and were driven to school. The butler went with and told the school office some story that granted them a pass from tardy slips.

When Tate returned home, there was a car parked in the driveway that he didn't recognize. He waited across the street for a while, for the driver to leave, but when that didn't happen and it started raining, he decided to run inside.

"We understand that, Ms Langdon." An unfamiliar voice said sternly from the living room. "But we need to talk to him." Tate shut the front door and regretted the volume of the large wooden door.

"That must be him." Constance said with a certain nervous tone. Tate wanted to run up the stairs and remain out of view, but his mom was suddenly at the living room door and smiled strangely at him. "Hello, Darling." She greeted him too sweetly.

"I'll be in my room." Tate said and aimed for the stairs.

"There are some gentlemen here to talk to you, Tate." Constance stepped out of the door and showed two men sitting stiffly on the couch. Tate looked back at the stairs again, but turned to the living room, and walked closer. The one man held his hand out for a handshake, but Tate only stared at it, dropped his bag at his feet and sat down across from the two Suites.

"What do you want?" Tate asked bluntly. Constance said his name in warning, but her sternness faltered when Tate ignored her.

"We want to talk to you about your brother."

"Beau?" Tate asked. He listened intently for the sound of his chains but he didn't hear it.

"You have another brother?"

Tate was taken off guard by the question. He looked at Constance for an answer.

"No." Tate said when his mom shook her head subtly. "I'm just trying to annoy you by stretching out the conversation."

"So the neighbors have been complaining about the noise that Beau has been making." The men ignored Tate's statement. And since they didn't ask him a question, Tate remained silent, staring them down.

"Do you know the noise that I'm referring to?"

"No." Tate stared between them. "Their dogs bark so loudly all the time, I can't hear myself think."

"I haven't heard a single dog bark since we got here."

"Dog walker." Tate said. "His name is James Fish. Stupid name, if you ask me. But he walks them every day after lunch. If he's still gone, must mean he lost one again. He really is a bad dog walker. He sometimes returns without a dog or two, and some days he comes back with more dogs than he left with. I killed one of the noisy mutts once. Wanted to. Didn't. Sometimes I can't sleep, thanks to their annoying yapping. So no, I don't know what noise they're referring to, unless they're talking about their own stupid fucking cross-bred mongrels!"

Tate grabbed his bag and walked out. The neighbors didn't have dogs. He just knew that they wanted a reason to take Beau away from home. And even though Tate didn't like that his mom tied Beau up, he didn't want Beau to be taken away.

The next couple of weeks, Hope went to school like normal. She and Tate spent most lunch breaks in the library, reading. Or in the school auditorium, making out. Hope told Tate when she started taking chemo again. He skipped school and spent those days with her. He held her hair back as she threw up and wiped her cold damp skin off from the sweat. They decided not to freak out when she had a nose bleed. They decided to make the best of all their time together.

Some mornings, they spent home room in language classes and pretended to be in those countries.

For Rory's birthday, she took him with her to Italy. It was winter break and Constance only let him go, because she didn't want to deal with him while the social services were breathing down her neck. And because the butler went with as their guardian.

Tate and Hope spent New Year's Eve in New York City before flying back to LA at the end of winter break. In New York, they spent two days running around and doing as many touristy things as they could fit in. When the Ball dropped in Times Square, they were on the rooftop of their fancy hotel, staring down at the crowd and drank champagne with the butler. After two glasses of champagne, he left them on the roof, to go to bed.

Hope and Tate spent the rest of the early hours of the New Year on the roof top. She sat in his arms and together they were wrapped in a blanket. "Happy 1994." Tate said and kissed her again.

"It's been 1994 for three hours already, Tate." She giggled.

"I know, but I just realized that."

"Do you have any new year's resolutions?"

"I think I'll be nicer to my mom." Tate said and then laughed.

"You should be." Hope stared at him with glassy eyes.

"Okay I'll try," he said when he saw how serious she was and tried to change the mood. "What's yours?"

"I'm going to stop Chemo. Before I start losing my hair." She said morbidly. They remained silent.

"I want to kiss you as many times as I can." She said with a smile. Tate kissed her right then without more invitation needed. It started snowing lightly and they sat even closer.

"I'm probably not going to see the year 1995." Hope said after a long silence. It took Tate an even longer time to think of anything to say to that.

"What are you talking about? You're going to get better. And then you'll grow old. With me." She smiled at his attempt to cheer her up.

"Do you believe in Heaven?" She asked, despite his statement.

"If there is one, you'd definitely have a VIP pass." Tate kissed her lightly.

"I'd like to grow old with you though." Hope mused. "Get married one day, in Central Park, in the snow! And have kids. Grandkids. And we'd fight over who's making dinner and laugh when we both bought the same things from the store."

"I like that." Tate said sadly.

"What do you think happens after death? Like ghosts and stuff?" Hope asked as she ignored her stinging tears and her mind was shuffling through so many thoughts. "I don't want to die anymore. In the past, I've made peace with it. But now…"

"Hey…" Tate held her close and hid his own tears in her hair. "It's okay. Either way, you don't lose. If Heaven is real, then you'll go there. If you end up a ghost, you could stay with me forever. There's no other option for you. You're so good. And kind and sweet. And you have that thing going on with God. I don't understand it, but He'll probably promote you or something to an angel or whatever. An angel that brings hope to the hopeless. Love to the unloved. Understanding to the misunderstood."

"When did you become so pathetically poetic?" Hope asked, giggling through tears.

"You did all those things for me."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

2011

"I knew it!" Hayden yelled as she stepped out from behind a wardrobe. "You did this!"

Tate and Rory turned to stare at Hayden.

"What are you talking about?" Tate asked. Rory kept her eyes on the floor.

"She's gotten rid of all the younger spirits." Hayden pointed at Rory.

"What? What do you mean?" Rory leaned to her side and stretched to reach the chalk on the floor.

Hayden ran forward and stepped on the chalk, turning it to powder. Rory rolled around and crawled as far as she could before Hayden grabbed her hair.

"Hey! Stop that!" Tate stepped closer and shoved Hayden away. Hayden turned on him and kicked him across the room.

"Get me out of here." Hayden said as she picked Rory up from the floor.

"I can't! Hayden I'm sorry. It doesn't work like that."

"You have the power to let me go! Now do it!" Hayden was mad. She was scratching Rory and she started bleeding. Tate pulled her off and when he turned to check on Rory, she was gone. The circle around the attic door was damaged and suddenly Hayden jumped down the steps. Tate ran after.

Rory ran down the stairs and yelled into Sam's room. He came out and ran down the stairs and out the front door. Rory ran into the kitchen and found Moira cleaning. Rory ran into the island and caught her breath.

"What's going on? Are you okay?" Moira asked when she saw the scratches on Rory's face.

"No. Hayden wants to kill me." Rory said simply. "Please get my mother out of the house. And have her call my dad. And then you can go."

Rory ran back into the front room and right into Hayden's sight. Hayden had been on the top of the stairs, searching for Rory. Tate was busy arguing with her but to no avail.

"You don't want to send me to heaven, sweetie? Then I'll send your loved ones to hell!" Hayden smashed the stair railing and let it fall to the floor. She grabbed matches and started setting fire to curtains and papers. Tate tried to stop her but she kicked him down the stairs.

"Tate!" Rory called. "Come with me!" Rory helped him up and half carried him out the burning house.

"Maybe if this house doesn't exist, neither will we!" Hayden yelled as she followed Rory outside.

"I told you, Hayden, It doesn't work like that. It's not the building but the land that traps you. If there's no house, then there's no place to hide. So go ahead. Burn down your own home."

Rory took Tate to the edge of the house and listened as Hayden's scream disappeared.

"I can't go further than this." Tate rasped.

"You can. With me." Rory held her hand out to him. Sam drove to the curb and threw the door open. "Let me save you, like you once saved me."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

1993

Hope had her good days and bad days. Whenever she was sick, Tate stayed with her at home. She encouraged him to stay in school, so eventually he just stayed with her in the afternoons.

On her good days, she got up and went to school like normal. Tate stayed real close, in case she needed help or felt faint.

But one day she skipped school because she started losing her hair. Tate didn't know what to say to her to make her feel better. He was dying inside and was too weak to do or say anything.

"You should be with Shirley." Hope mused one day in the cafeteria. She'd been licking her lunch and staring at the beautiful blond girl across the room. Tate followed her stare and frowned.

"She's like a model." Tate complained. "High maintenance."

"And a dying girl isn't high maintenance?" Hope turned her gaze to him.

"Not you. No." He kissed her quickly and got a very loud cough from a supervising teacher.

"You deserve beauty." Hope whispered as she looked into Tate's eyes.

"I have it." He said but suppressed his urge to kiss her again.

"Not for long." Hope said thoughtlessly. Tate snapped.

"I don't give a damn about how long!" Tate took his lunch and disposed of it. Hope left her lunch and ignored the teacher who was wildly motioning for her to clean up her stuff. They stormed out the cafeteria and Hope managed to stop Tate before she ran out of breath.

"They're limited, you know?" Hope said as she sat down on the steps, catching her breath. "My breaths. My hair. Days with me."

"I don't want to hear about it, Hope." Tate stated. He kept his back to her as he hid his tears from her.

"I'm…" Tate cut her off and turned on her quickly.

"I don't care. I don't plan on living much longer than you."

"What? No! Tate! You can't do that!" Hope sprang up and slipped down the stairs. Tate caught her just before she could fall too far.

"What is my life without you?" Tate asked tenderly.

"A life nonetheless." Hope got mad. "It's something I can't have!"

"I'm sorry." Tate sat down and she sat next to him. "I know."

"I love you." Hope said as she wrapped her arms around him.

"I love you too." Tate whispered. "But it there is anyone who deserves life, it would be you. Not me."

Hope remained stable and continued to go to school. Meanwhile, a morbid plan started to form in Tate's mind that he hid from her. Hope started shrinking away as she lost weight each day. And with this she got weaker.

Hope went to school a couple mornings and couldn't find Tate anywhere. Constance had had the habit of locking him in his room some days, so Hope didn't think much of it.

At home, Tate stared at his wall. He swayed on his bed.

Larry had killed Beauregard a few days ago. Tate had been locked in his room because his mother was afraid he'd say something to the police.

Tate crushed and line up cocaine and crystal meth. He waited for it to take effect and stared around his room. He knew what he was going to do. Tate grabbed a shot gun and snuck out.

He walked to Larry's work place and set him on fire before walking across town to his school. Outside, he stared at the steps that he and Hope always met at. He took a breath and walked in.

Tate walked down the hall and stopped in front of the French class. He could hear Hope flaunt her perfect French before he opened the door and walked in.

The entire class's attention came crashing to him when the door opened.

"Hope. I love you." Tate walked to her desk and kissed her. She frowned but before she could say anything, he revealed the gun and shot her. "You're free now." Tate mumbled as he turned and left the class room.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13.

2011

Tate stared at Rory's hand.

"I can save you." Rory said. "You can come with me."

"I want to be with you." Tate said. "But I can't."

"It's okay. I can't explain. But you can come with me."

"I can't." Tate said stubbornly. "I don't deserve to go. I deserve to stay here. I did horrible things, Hope."

"No, no, no…"Rory protested as he talked faster.

"Terrible, terrible things! I've killed allot of people. I ruined lives. I'm so sorry. For what I did. To you. And everyone else. I'm so sorry but I don't deserve any goodness. I'm…"

Rory kissed him to shut him up. But as she stepped back he started to disappear. She franticly tried to get a hold of him, but he was becoming translucent.

"What's happening?" Tate asked as he stared at his hands.

"You repented. Confessed and apologized. Sincerely. You're free."

"You're an angel." Tate stated happily. Rory nodded.

"I love you, Tate." Rory closed her eyes and Tate disappeared entirely. Rory opened her eyes and he was gone.


End file.
